The Secret Prophecy Read Online Free PDF Page A

course.
    “Thank you,” Tom said gravely. He gave the two of them a grin that said Aren’t you jealous that you’re not grown-up?
    “I’ll have a Coke. Lots of ice,” Charlotte told the hostess without being asked.
    That’s what came of living in California, Em thought. American confidence rubbed off on you, like picking up the accent. He wished some of it would rub off on him. He realized the hostess was looking at him now, dropped his eyes, and muttered, “Me too.”
    As the train pulled out of St. Pancras station, Tom Peterson stood to retrieve his laptop from the luggage rack. “Do you think you two could stay quiet for the next couple of hours?” he asked. “I need to finish my symposium paper.”
    Em groaned inwardly—he’d been looking forward to a real chat with Charlotte—but Charlotte herself said firmly, “Oh, don’t be such a bore , Dad. You know we can’t possibly keep quiet for two hours.” She glanced around the carriage with its light sprinkling of fellow passengers. “Em and I will go and sit somewhere else. Then we can talk and you can get on with your rotten paper.”
    “I’m not sure they let you do that,” Tom said uncertainly. “We have reserved seats. I expect everyone else does too.”
    “The cabin is half empty!” Charlotte exclaimed. “And if they don’t like us sitting somewhere else, what are they going to do: spank us? Honestly, Daddy, we’ll just come back and irritate you if they move us.”
    It was obvious that she had him twisted around her little finger despite the years with her mother. Or maybe because of them, Em thought. Either way, Tom was grinning as she wriggled out of her seat and scurried down the aisle to take another vacant place as far distant as she could get. Em glanced at Tom helplessly, then got up and followed her.
    After making all the fuss, Charlotte lapsed into silence and gazed out the window as the rolling cityscape gradually gave way to countryside. Em, who’d always been a bit shy around girls—especially the pretty ones—couldn’t think of anything to say, so he stared woodenly ahead, feeling stupid.
    Eventually he coughed and asked casually, “Where are we? Do you know?”
    “Somewhere in Kent probably,” Charlotte said. “I looked at the map yesterday, and we go through Kent before we reach the Chunnel.”
    The Chunnel was the Channel Tunnel, and Em was frankly just a little freaked out about it. What worried him was the thought of traveling through a shaft that carried the weight of the entire English Channel, not to mention several hundred thousand tons of rock. What would happen if it all just . . . collapsed? Actually he knew perfectly well what would happen if it all just collapsed.
    He coughed again. “Have you ever traveled this route before?”
    “I’ve never even been to France. I might as well have been an American since Mum and Dad divorced. Californians never go anywhere, except to other parts of America.”
    “So you don’t know when we go into the tunnel?”
    “They tell you,” Charlotte said. “According to Dad. They announce it, like the pilot telling you to fasten your seat belts. But anyway, you’ll know in daylight. You can’t see the scenery, and they put the lights on.”
    “Does it take long? Like, inside the tunnel?”
    “About fifteen minutes, I think. Maybe twenty.”
    “Is that all ?” Em asked, suddenly relieved. Fifteen minutes was nothing. Even twenty wasn’t much.
    Charlotte turned to look at him. “You aren’t worrying, are you? About going through the tunnel?”
    “What, me?” Em spluttered. He gave a bright, loud laugh. “No, of course not.”
    “Oh good,” Charlotte said, and turned back to the window.
    It was exactly as she predicted. A male voice came over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you are enjoying your journey with Eurostar. We shall soon be entering the Channel Tunnel, and interior illumination will be switched on for your convenience. I’d like to